


Falling Water

by EldritchMage



Series: The Angel and the Saint [3]
Category: Bard/Thranduil - Fandom, Barduil - Fandom
Genre: Bard is a metal sculptor, M/M, Summer Adventure, Thran is a Russian ballet dancer, Thran swears a lot in Russian, Thranduil Summer Bash, White Water Rafting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EldritchMage/pseuds/EldritchMage
Summary: When Bard suggests that Clan Ffyrnig celebrate the end of the summer with a white water rafting trip, Sigrid, Legolas, Bain, and Tilda couldn't be more excited. Thran, however, has other ideas.Do you really think Thran can persuade the children that this might not be the best idea?Of course you don't! Bring on the paddles, rubber raft, and sunscreen!





	Falling Water

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the Thranduil Summer Bash. Hope you all enjoy the fun!
> 
> Clan Ffyrnig's rafting trip takes place immediately after the events described in "Summer Heat," in August, 2016.
> 
> Translation Notes:
> 
> synok = son (Russian)  
> lyubov moya = my love (Russian)  
> fy nghariad = my love (Welsh)  
> suka blyad = bitch, motherfucker (Russian)  
> akh, chto, chert voz'mi = oh, what the hell (Russian)  
> sukin syn = son of a bitch (Russian)  
> sosat' moy chlen = suck my cock (Russian)  
> idi na khuy = go to hell, suck my prick (Russian)  
> chert = damn (Russian)  
> ty grebanyy huiesos = you fucking cocksucker (Russian)  
> oy = ouch (Russian)  
> ya lyublyu tebya = I love you (Russian)  
> garu di = I love you (Welsh)  
> mon petit jouet de chat = my little cat toy (French)

When Bard brought up the white water rafting trip, his husband was not sanguine.

This was no surprise. Thran Oropherson was infinitely more at home in a clean, spare, climate-controlled ballet studio than he was in the hot, humid, buggy outdoors of their beautifully manicured back yard, not to mention in a raft hurtling down river rapids in the middle of wilderness. Not that Bard blamed Thran’s reluctance – his tall, ethereal husband was not just any _danseur_. He was one of the best in the world, and he currently had that world at his talented feet because of a certain just-premiered ballet. He hadn’t only worked long, grueling months to create, stage, and perform _Immortal_ to universal acclaim; he’d also turned the once-average, modestly talented UltraViolet Ballet Company into a vibrant and exciting creative force. No one could say that Thran was a stranger to hard work, discipline, perseverance, and determination.

No one could say he was an aficionado of many outdoor activities, either.

Granted, Thran’s almost-white skin burned after only seconds of sun exposure, and his pale, silver-grey eyes were sensitive to glare. He was fastidious about his beautiful, nearly waist-length white hair that seemed more Elvish silk than dead human protein. What’s more, the effort he spent to maintain his body at the highest level necessary to dance such difficult roles was nothing he chose to risk on ill-advised adventures. On top of all that, Thran worshipped certain luxuries of modern life, namely a cushy bed, serious indoor climate control, and Bard’s cooking painstakingly tailored to his needs.

As Thran so bluntly phrased it...

_“I do not camp.”_

Any second now, Thran would make that very declaration in firm, final tones. But it would do him no good. Not even a tall, ethereal ballet dancer with the world at his celebrated feet had enough mojo to deter four enthusiastic and eager children when watery mayhem was at hand.

It was suppertime, and the family sat around the farmhouse table in their comfortable kitchen. Through the tall windows by the table, they had a perfect view of the blue flagstone terrace where several examples of Bard’s metal sculpture added serene grace to a riot of huge elephant ear plants and bright tropical flowers. The table itself was replete with all the bounties of August – sweet corn on the cob, fresh salad, just-picked string beans, and slices of juicy cantaloupe to go with the hamburgers that Bard had grilled on the big kitchen gas range. Thran was at his accustomed spot at one end of the table; Bard was at the other; Sigrid and Tilda sat opposite Legolas and Bain. Everyone was smiling and happy, and Bard savored the fairytale domesticity.

Only recently had their lives become so idyllic. Not quite ten months ago, he and Thran had been swept into a whirlwind romance only seconds after they’d met, when Thran had been recovering from strained ligaments, and Bard had been the desperately poor night super of the apartment building where they both lived. Lonely Legolas had been away at boarding school, and Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda had languished with Bard in their decaying apartment. In mere weeks, Thran and Bard had decided to combine two sad families into one happy one that they’d dubbed Clan Ffyrnig, and Bard had set about restoring his dilapidated Edwardian country house for them. Just days before the end of last year, they’d moved in. He and Thran had collaborated to write the story for Thran’s ballet, and as Thran had crafted that story into an amazing spectacle, Bard had seen the resurgence of his career as a metal sculptor. The children had settled into an excellent nearby school, as well. The laughter and enjoyment that punctuated their supper was clear evidence that Sigrid, Legolas, Bain, and Tilda were just as happy as their fathers.

In another ten days, the children would start a new school year at the Imladris Academy. Bard had mentioned the rafting trip a couple of weeks ago to gauge what the children thought, and all four had been excited to enjoy a watery adventure before they returned their attentions to academic endeavors. Even Thran had offered grudging agreement, but only if Bard promised to find a river without Olympic-level rapids. After some searching, Bard had found a river that was gentle enough not to risk a premier danseur’s life and limb, yet exciting enough not to bore the children to tears. With a little luck, the venture would be a fit close to the family’s exciting summer.

“So remember when I asked if anyone was interested in a rafting trip?” Bard said casually when the initial rush of teenaged starvation had eased.

Four sets of bright eyes met his, drawing Bard’s chuckle. A moment ago, the children had been absorbed in inhaling their supper, but now food was forgotten at the novelty of an adventurous day trip. Thran regarded the excited faces of their four children, and turned an expression on Bard that was not quite resignation, not quite reproach, but complete, if silent, martyrdom.

“Yeah, Da!” Bain exclaimed excitedly. “White water rafting!”

“I know! I can’t wait!” Tilda crowed across from Bain, bouncing in her seat.

“It’ll be so much fun,” Legolas wheedled to his father. “Really, Papa. It will.”

“I’m excited, too,” Sigrid looked over Tilda’s head at Bard. “What day are we going? I already said something to Miss Dís at the bistro, so she’ll let me trade days with someone, whatever day we choose.”

“So five votes for rafting. Will you make it unanimous, Thran?” Bard asked.

Sighing heavily, Thran waved a reluctant hand at Bard. “I am outvoted. A constitutional republic follows the rule of law, and so I must follow the law to squeeze myself into a tiny raft and hurtle between rocks, only to fall into the water at the end.”

That brought hoots of laughter, because Thran had over-emoted just enough that everyone knew he wasn’t completely serious.

“What law is that, Papa?” Legolas questioned, still laughing. “I don’t think there is any law that says you have to go rafting.”

“I speak of the unwritten law that says that I must go along with the unified front of four children and my husband to do this thing, or forever face silent reproach.” Thran waved his hands and mugged. “This law I cannot defy.”

Sigrid snickered. “Uh-oh, he’s gesticulating. Any minute now, he’ll talk fast and swear in Russian.”

Grinning, Thran waved his hands at Sigrid. “ _Moi_? You think I would do such a thing?”

“In a heartbeat, angel,” Bard laughed. “You’re at your most endearing when you gesticulate, talk fast, and swear in Russian.”

“Tcha,” Thran waved his hands in dismissal. “Perhaps I sometimes talk fast in front of the children, but I never swear in front of them. Today, I will do neither. I hope you appreciate my forbearance, my saint, because I must still squeeze into the small raft, hurtle between rocks, and fall out at the end.”

“It won’t be like that, angel,” Bard assured his husband. “I found a nice river less than an hour away, and the rapids are only Class II and III. Things don’t get entertaining until Class IV, so there won’t be hurtling or falling out. On the other hand,” he held up his hands to stave off the children’s protests about boring, old-fogey rivers, “there are lots of twists and turns, and a couple of spots that run fast without a huge lot of rocks, so the more excitable members of Clan Ffyrnig won’t be so bored that they’ll fall asleep during the four-hour run. You won’t have to squeeze into a small raft, either. There’ll be a big six-person raft waiting for us on Thursday morning.”

Today was Monday, so while the children cheered, they also demanded to know how Bard expected them to wait three whole days before they had their adventure.

“That was the first chance for us to have a raft all to ourselves,” Bard explained. “I thought we’d like to be together, not split over two or three rafts with other people. We’ll have our own guide to steer us through the... interesting bits, too, which I thought Thran would prefer.”

“Interesting bits?” Thran echoed, giving Bard a suspicious look. “What are these interesting bits?”

“Those are the parts where you hurtle between rocks and fall into the water at the end, Papa,” Legolas said helpfully, but his eyes twinkled with mischief.

Everyone laughed when Thran glared at his tall, blond son. “Aha, you want to see your papa hurtle and fall into the water, yes? Very funny.”

“It won’t be so bad, Ada,” Tilda offered. “You said the same thing about the rollercoasters at the amusement park, but you went on one.”

“I only hurtled, and safely on a track without rocks to crash into. I was securely strapped in and so did not fall out, either,” Thran grumped. “I will not be securely strapped into the raft, there will be rocks, there will be water, and I will fall out. I think I talk myself out of this adventure.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Bard disputed, amid the children’s loud protests. “I had another reason for having a few days between when I told you about this and when we go. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that you are as comfortable as possible beforehand, so you can relax and enjoy yourself once we head down the river.”

“How will you do that?” Thran demanded, a skeptical look on his face.

Bard grinned. “Tomorrow, we go shopping.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning after breakfast, Thran found himself surrounded by four gleeful children and his equally gleeful husband in the parking lot of the local outdoor specialty store. He pretended to look dubious, but he was secretly delighted. While rafting had not been high on his list of activities to indulge in, it had caught the children’s fancy, and he was happy to see them so excited. Besides, Bard would never ask him or the children to do anything truly dangerous, so there was little to worry about.

That didn’t mean that the rest of the family didn’t tease him about it, if gently. That included his husband.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Bard had promised as they lay in bed last night. “It won’t be anything like that Cecil B. DeMille film.”

“What, the one where Moses parted the Red Sea, the fleeing Jews rushed across, and then the water cascaded down in a flood to sweep away the entire Egyptian army?”

Bard’s grin had been impish. “That’s the one. Or rather, that’s not the one. Our trip will be nothing like that.”

“Then why do you bring it up?” Thran had snorted.

“I’m only trying to reassure you,” Bard had said without batting an eye.

“ _Suka blyad_ ,” Thran had growled. “You try only to unnerve me.”

“Did I?”

“No. You would not endanger the children just to pique me. So we will be safe.”

“Oh, so I _did_ reassure you, then,” Bard had snickered.

Thran’s retort had included no gesticulations or rapid-fire words, but Russian profanity had been another matter.

 _“Sosat’ moy chlen_ ,” Thran had growled. “ _Idi na khuy_ , _ty grebanyy huiesos.”_

“If you insist.” Bard had pulled the sheet off them both, and rolled over to pin Thran beneath him. What began as delicious kisses down his torso turned hellaciously erotic when Bard engulfed Thran’s cock in his mouth.

“You are such a fucking bastard,” Thran had gasped, clutching the bed sheet in one hand and Bard’s unruly dark curls in the other.

“You’re welcome. And don’t worry. The rafting will be epic.”

“M-maybe so – oh, gods, Bard! – maybe so. But – oooh... mmm – but if it is so, then why d-do you w-work so hard to dis-distract me?”

“I’m clearly not distracting you enough. Lie back and let me.”

“ _Sukin syn_!” Thran had protested, but weakly. It would have been tragic not to appreciate the amorous attentions of his husband, so he’d subsided without further complaint.

Whether the rafting trip would be epic or not, the children were so enthusiastic about their shopping expedition that Thran had barely registered the name of the store before he was tugged and urged through the door. Once inside, he soon found himself trying on water shoes, long-sleeved jerseys, swim suits, and several other things. As Bard and the children knew more about outdoor gear than he did, he let them decide what items were suitable, and confined himself to choosing the most comfortable of their choices. Of those that made everyone’s cut, his vanity led him to select the items that were not too garishly colored. At 6’5”, he was too tall and slender to wear shocking green – he would look like a mutant string bean – and neon pink was entirely out of the question. Perhaps he should stick to his preferred palette for his ballet clothes – creams, whites, and pale greys, with occasional touches of deep red.

“Oh, Papa,” Legolas shook his head. “This is rafting, not ballet. White and cream things will not stay white or cream for long, grey is boring, and dark red will be too hot. Pick colors in the middle.”

“Yeah, Thran,” Bain nodded vigorous agreement. “That way you won’t look as dirty as you really will be, but you won’t roast in the sun, either.”

“Such alternatives,” Thran exhaled, picking through the pile of jerseys. “Not the red, then – I will look like a sunburned radish. Not the neon yellow – I will look like Big Bird. Not the demented pink – I will look like a glow stick. Ah, this one is good, the blue and green print. But why do I need a long sleeved jersey in the summer, of all things?”

“Because it’s got stuff in it to keep you from getting sunburned.” Tilda held up one in her favorite sunny yellow. “See? I have to get one, too.”

“Ah,” Thran nodded sagely. “How is it that all of you need so few of these things?”

“Except for Tilda, we’ve all been in sport camp all summer, so we’ve already got most of it.” Sigrid held up a pair of water shoes. “Except these. I need these, Da.”

“You all need those,” Bard agreed. “I’ve got an old pair of trainers I’ll wear. See, angel? The children do need stuff, just not as much stuff as you do.”

Thran got back in his SUV with his sun-shading jersey, sturdy water shoes, brimmed hat, and a clever neoprene device that would hold his sunglasses on his head. The rafting company would provide life preservers, so he didn’t have to buy one of those. At the very last moment, he’d persuaded Bard to get one of the jerseys. As usual, his husband had not chosen anything for himself, a longstanding habit from his days as an impoverished single father working two jobs to keep his family afloat. But those days were past, and Thran enjoyed watching Bard mull colors and styles for something that wasn’t off a thrift store rack. And of course he enjoyed himself when Bard tried on a couple of the shirts – Bard was a very handsome man, and the snug, mottled blue jersey showed off his broad shoulders and trim torso to delightful effect.

It would be even more delightful to admire his husband in his new jersey when it was wet.

Hmmm. Perhaps hurtling down a river in a rubber raft offered some compensation.

On Thursday, the family was up early to dress in shorts and tees and trainers, and engulf a hearty breakfast of omelets and toast. After breakfast featured a lot of hair braiding – except for Bard and Bain, everyone had very long hair that would endure the rafting trip better in plaits. They loaded water gear, extra clothing, and beach towels into bags, stocked up on bottled water, and were on their way before eight a.m. The sky was only slightly cloudy, and the temperature was so warm that Thran appreciated his SUV’s air conditioning even more than usual; it might not feel so bad to suffer a river dunking, after all. He appreciated the drive to the river, too; the scenery was green and lush, the small farms and homes they passed were charming, and there were even some interesting curio shops that he would have loved to peruse given enough time. By the time they reached the parking lot of the rafting company, he was glad they had made the trip, if not entirely reconciled to the adventure at hand.

_Tcha. I have emigrated from a faraway country with my son, and started a new family with a Welsh metal sculptor and his three children. I have jumped off a twenty-foot tower and flown on a cable across a stage in front of hundreds of people. I have survived two gang attacks and a kidnapping. Floating in a rubber raft will not be nearly as hard as any of those. It will be fun to see the children enjoy themselves so much, and my saint will be the most delicious part of the scenery._

The children bounded out of the SUV as soon as Thran switched off the engine. They grabbed the swimsuits, jerseys, and water shoes that they intended to wear on the river, and trooped after Bard into the small office. A young woman not much older than Sigrid looked up to offer a welcoming wave. Her dark hair was braided in one long pigtail that matched Sigrid’s, and she had lively dark brown eyes. She was comfortably clad in sturdy, quick-drying shorts with lots of zippered pockets, battered water shoes, and a bright red tee shirt emblazoned with “ROAR Guides Rule the Rafts.” She carried herself with such cheerful, graceful confidence that Bard’s fingers surely itched for a sketchpad and pencil. Thran’s husband had an uncanny talent for sketching the most dynamic portraits he’d ever seen. He’d have to remind Bard to sketch this young woman when they returned home.

“Hi, folks! Welcome to Rafts On Anduin River. Are you here for a trip?”

“We are,” Bard grinned back easily. “Six for the nine-thirty run.”

“You must be Clan Fehr-nig, right? Did I pronounce it right?”

“Close,” Bard allowed. “It’s FEER-nish. I’m Bard, this is Thran, and they’re Sigrid, Legolas, Bain, and Tilda.”

“It’s Welsh for Fierce Clan,” Tilda offered helpfully with a smile. “That’s us.”

“I see,” the woman returned Tilda smile, then turned to check the white board behind the desk. “Yup, there you are – my crew for the day. I’m Diana Traversie.”

“Oh, like the huntress?” Sigrid asked as Diana shook hands all around.

“Just like her,” Diana grinned. “No hunting today, though. I’ll be too busy taking you down the river.”

“I can’t wait,” Bain chortled, elbowing Legolas.

“Just a few things to take care of first, and we’ll be on our way,” Diana assured them. “First, all of you are older than seven, right?”

“Til’s the youngest. She’s ten,” Bard replied.

“Eleven in three weeks and one day!” Tilda inserted.

“Everyone knows how to swim?” Diana asked, laughing at Tilda’s enthusiasm.

Everyone chorused yes.

“Perfect. I’ll ask you to sign a release form for everyone, but before I do, you know we had rain for a couple of days earlier in the week, right? The river’s not as low as it usually is this time of year.”

“What does that mean?” Thran asked.

“It means there’s more water in the river, so it’s a little faster, a little bumpier. The couple of big rapids are closer to Stage III than II, in case you’re concerned about that.”

Everyone looked at Thran.

He arched his eyebrow at the lot of them. “We are here, we will hurtle down the Stage III rapids. They are of no consequence.”

That got him some looks, but he ignored them. Diana took in the exchange as if she’d seen several just like it many times before, so he shrugged.

“My family wants to see me fall in the water. I will do my best not to gratify them.”

Diana chuckled. “We haven’t had anyone fall in today, so the trend’s in your favor.”

Bain stuck his head from behind Bard. “Oh, so no one’s gone down the river yet, then?”

Laughing, Diana pointed a playful finger at Bain and the snickering Legolas. “I won’t be able to put anything over on you. You think pretty fast.”

That got a laugh from everyone. Diana handed around the release forms, which were duly signed. Once everyone had changed into swimsuits and water jerseys, Diana fitted them with life jackets, and then led them towards a flotilla of rafts pulled up onto the gravelly bank of the river.

Thran eyed the black rubber rafts closely. They seemed big enough to hold them safely. Still, he tightened the neoprene strap that held his sunglasses on, and he settled his hat more firmly on his head.

He was ready to do battle with a river.

 

* * *

 

Bard smothered a smile at the deliberate way Thran settled his sunglasses and hat, then tightened the straps of his life jacket, as if he girded for battle. This wasn’t that serious of a rafting trip; otherwise, Diana would have fitted them all with crash helmets as well as life jackets, but Thran would have done the same even if Bard had explained. Maybe once they got underway, Thran would see that they had little to worry about.

Bard handed around the sunscreen for everyone to slather over legs and faces, beckoning to Tilda to help her as he usually did. But the youngest member of Clan Ffyrnig was already taking care of it herself, reminding Bard anew that she was growing up. Her shorts and tees, which had been new and baggy in June, were now faded and snug, and she was leaving 5’4” farther behind every day. She wasn’t the only growing child in the family; Sigrid had turned seventeen a few days ago, and was 5’10”. Fifteen-year-old Legolas was 6’3”, an inch taller than Bard, and fourteen-year-old Bain was three inches shorter. Before too long, when Tilda shot up as tall as her sister, the family could legitimately consider a new nickname – Clan Tal, the tall clan.

Luckily, Clan Ffyrnig wasn’t so tall that they couldn’t all fit in the raft Diana pulled down to the water for them. The river was slow and shallow here, and they had the luxury to check out how well the raft floated without danger of it drifting away. Diana gave everyone a paddle, then got them properly arranged to distribute their weight equally. Legolas and Bain sat up front, with Tilda and Sigrid behind them, and Bard and Thran sat just in front of Diana at the stern.

“Okay, only a few rules that everyone needs to follow as we go,” Diana said. “First, keep your life jackets on. Second, keep the paddles in the water, not over your heads. Third, when the water’s calm, feel free to scoop up some water with your hands when you need to cool off, but the rest of the time please keep your arms and legs in the raft. Fourth, keep your water bottles stowed in the gear bag when you’re not getting a drink, so we keep plastic out of the river. Fifth, do not shove anyone out of the raft.”

Legolas looked startled. “You have to tell people that? About the life jackets and paddles? And shoving people?”

Diana grinned ruefully. “Yeah, believe it or not. I’m glad to hear you’re more sensible.”

Legolas gave Bain a look; the dark-haired boy shrugged. “Yeah, even I know that. Paddles in the water, people in the raft, and not the other way around!”

“Exactly,” Diana continued. “Okay, next thing – we’ll do about two hours down the river, then stop for lunch and a little rest. Then we’ll go another two hours to the end point. The rapids, such that they are, are mostly in the second part of the trip. Before we go through any of them, I’ll describe the path we’ll take, and how to steer us through the best way. Your paddles aren’t just for show – I do some of the steering, but getting us to go in the right direction is up to all of you. Okay? Any questions about that?”

“We get to help steer?” Sigrid exchanged a surprised look with Tilda. “So this isn’t just a ride?”

“Nope,” Diana affirmed. “If you’re into Star Trek, then I’ve got the helm, and you’re the forward thrusters.”

“Cool!” Tilda exclaimed. “You’re not the Captain today, Da.”

“I’m not,” Bard grinned. “Captain Diana, and the rest of us are ensigns.”

“All right!” Diana rubbed her hands together with brisk satisfaction. “Looks like I’ve got a good crew today. So there’s just one more rule to tell you before we cast off.”

“What’s that?” the children chorused.

“Enjoy yourselves,” Diana winked. “Ready?”

“Ready!”

Under Diana’s direction, they waded into the water with the raft between them. When Bain and Legolas were hip deep in the water, Diana had the girls get in, then the boys. Diana was next, then Bard and Thran eased into the final two positions. They were on their way!

As promised, the first part of the trip was slow and easy, with lots of time to look at the scenery. The river water was greeny brown, but still clear enough to see right to the rocky bottom, and cool enough to offer relief from the heat. Everyone in the raft, even Thran, took advantage of that to splash arms, legs, and chests frequently. A great blue heron fishing in the shallows eyed them until they got too close for comfort, and then flapped majestically away to everyone’s oohs and aahs, but that was only one of the many different birds they saw. They also saw several fish darting through the clear water, and at one point Diana pulled the raft up on a tiny sand bar to show them the crayfish that darted in the shallows by the riverbank. Several turtles basked on partially submerged logs and rocks, and they were treated to the unusual sight of a four-foot long snake swimming close to the shore.

“Whoa,” Bain murmured in appreciation of the snake’s size. “I guess this isn’t the place to go swimming, yeah?”

“We’re coming up on the spot we call Swimmers’ Cove,” Diana replied. “That’s where we’ll have our lunch. You can have a dip there if you’re getting warm, too. But first we have our first fast water to get through.”

Bard snuck a look at Thran, but his husband grinned and wiggled his eyebrows behind his sunglasses. The tall dancer had enjoyed the first part of their trip as much as anyone had, chatting easily with Diana and pointing out the interesting things he saw along the way. He seemed unconcerned about the upcoming rapids, which relieved Bard. Teasing Thran about rafting was one thing, but forcing him to be uncomfortable for the day was another.

“Here’s the scoop on the rapids,” Diana began. “It’s a quick zig to the right, then an even quicker zag to the left. We want to keep as much in the middle of both as possible, because that’s where the rocks aren’t. So when I yell Left, that means Bard, Tilda, and Legolas paddle as hard as you can. When I yell Right, that means Thran, Sigrid, and Bain paddle as hard as you can. When I yell Straight, everyone paddle as hard as you can. Now, no one’s fallen out on this stretch, but in case you do, float on your back, keep your feet downstream, and use your arms to keep your head up. Got it?”

“Got it!”

“Okay, we’re ready! And before I forget, whooping is not only allowed, but encouraged. Got that?”

“Aye, aye, Captain Diana!” Tilda replied, eyes dancing. “Let’s go!”

“Yeah, let’s do it, Clan Ffyrnig!” Sigrid gave Tilda an excited fist bump.

Even Thran chuckled at the enthusiasm of their daughters. He settled his hat on his head again, had his paddle ready, and couldn’t suppress an anticipatory grin.

Perfect. The tall, elegant dancer was getting into the adventure.

Diana steered them into the middle of the river, and quickly the rapids swung into view. Legolas and Bain pumped their fists to see the rippling water, and Tilda let out a whoop before gripping her paddle tightly. The water dropped quite a ways through the ess turn, and rocky sides rose up on either side, but not precipitously, or very high. If all went well, the family would get a thrilling rush from side to side for a few seconds, before quickly finding themselves safely downstream.

“Okay, here we go!” Diana shouted over the sound of the water bouncing off the rocky sides of the slight chasm as she leaned hard to the left with her rudder paddle. “Hard left, crew! Keep it steady, right!”

Bard, Tilda, and Legolas paddled hard while Thran, Sigrid, and Bain continued to paddle normally. The raft came around the bend to stay in the center of the water.

“Straight on!”

Everyone paddled hard.

“Now hard right! More, right! Left, lighten up!”

They zigged and zagged a bumpy path between the rocky sides, getting a little close to the right side on the second turn, but they quickly compensated, and came hurtling through the rapids without incident. Everyone was well splashed, and the children cheered at their success.

“Well done, all!” Diana complimented them, giving Thran and Bard high fives. “That was great!”

“It was awesome!” Bain chortled, giving Legolas a high five.

Legolas wiped the water out of his eyes and passed his high five on to Sigrid and Tilda. “Yes! That was fun! Kukla, wasn’t it fun?”

“Yes! I can’t wait to do it again!” the girl nodded vigorously. “How long before the next one, Diana?”

“Not until after lunch,” the guide replied. “It’ll be worth the wait, though. It’s bigger.”

“Yeah!” Sigrid crowed. “I’m with you, Til – I can’t wait.”

“Did you like it, too, Papa?” Legolas turned to look back at his father.

Thran was soaking wet, even his hat and glasses, but his grin was wide. “It was perfect, _synok_. We hurtled, but did not fall out.”

“Told ya,” Diana smirked playfully. “I said no one’s fallen out there. And no, Bain, I don’t mean just today. I get everyone through that stretch. It softens you up for what comes next.”

Four children turned to look at their guide grinning widely. Their grins were no less wide.

“I think you’ve got their attention,” Bard snickered. “Just for the record, what _does_ come next?”

“Lunch!” Diana crowed, pointing downstream. “Not too far, now. So lay on with the paddles, crew. The harder we paddle, the sooner we eat.”

Bain and Legolas whooped, and set the pace for the rest. In about fifteen minutes, the raft floated around a gentle bend to reveal a small, sandy beach and a grassy space behind it, the latter well shaded. A series of metal tables had been set up in the shade, and a couple of men were in the midst of unloading food from a series of big coolers.

“Wow, that’s a lot of food,” Bain noted. “I didn’t know how hungry I was until I saw that.”

“It’s a good spread,” Diana assured the boys. “We’re used to feeding hungry people. Hey, Daniel! Colin! Look sharp there! You’ve got incoming!”

The two men gave them welcoming waves. “Hey, Diana! Can’t you paddle any faster than that? We’ll eat all the food ourselves by the time you get here!”

“Oh, no, they won’t,” Bain and Legolas chorused, with emphatic agreement from Sigrid and Tilda. The children plied their paddles at top speed, with Bard and Thran chipping in from the stern. Soon, Diana asked the boys to hop out and pull the raft up on the left side of the beach, out of the way of the other rafters that would soon follow them.

“If you want to have a quick soak before you eat, have at,” Diana invited. “You’ll have more time after lunch for a longer one, too.”

“Better we eat now before anyone else gets here, Til,” Bain exhorted his sister as she skipped towards the edge of the beach. “More food for us!”

“There is enough food for an army,” Thran observed, as Diana helped Colin and Daniel arrange more food on the tables. “Even our army.”

With those assurances about the quantity of food that awaited them, the children were inclined to take a quick dip first. Bard followed them, glad to sit in the shallows and enjoy the cool water while he watched the children play. Thran waded in to sit down beside him.

“Okay so far, angel?” Bard queried, rubbing Thran’s thigh under the water as they watched the children splash.

“I enjoy myself very much,” Thran nodded. He slid a sly gaze over his husband as he slipped an arm around Bard’s waist. “Ah. It is just as I suspected.”

“What’s just as you suspected? That rafting’s not such a huge deal?”

“Tcha.” Thran’s intent eyes lingered on Bard’s torso, and his lips curved up in a private smile. “You looked very tasty in your new jersey in the store, but you look so much more than tasty when you and the jersey are wet.”

Bard snorted. “Gods, angel. Only you can find something sexy about rafting.”

“I can find something sexy about anything, as long as you are part of it.”

Bard didn’t speak, but he insinuated fingers between Thran’s thighs until his husband’s breath caught.

“What did you say soon after we first met, _lyubov moya_? No public displays of affection?”

“You’re the one who said that, _fy nghariad_ ,” Bard wiggled his eyebrows at his husband. “Besides, what happens under the water stays under the water.”

“You are no saint, and all devil.”

Bard let his fingers drift down Thran’s thigh to his knee. “You still like me that way, but if you insist.”

“I love you that way. Just wait until I get you home, and I will prove it.”

Bard’s snicker was wicked. “I look forward to it. Until then, guess we’d better make do with lunch.”

They waded out of the water, beckoning to the children to follow them. They helped themselves to a delicious lunch that included a variety of sandwich breads, meats, cheeses, and condiments, as well as salads, fruits, and cookies. Lots of bottled water was a good refresher to accompany their lunch.

By the time Clan Ffyrnig had filled their plates, more rafters were coming down the river, so Diana sat with the family off to the side to chat while they ate. They learned that she was originally from Lame Deer, Montana, where she’d completed an associate’s degree at Chief Dull Knife College on the North Cheyenne Indian Reservation in environmental studies. Like many of her schoolmates, she’d sought to continue her studies at a four-year college, and had earned a spot in one of New York’s many universities. She was an ardent outdoor lover, and hoped to be an environmental scientist when she graduated in another year, but for now she was happy to spend her summer as a river guide.

“Wow, it’s a long way from Montana to New York,” Sigrid commented.

“Farther than you think,” Diana agreed. “The physical distance isn’t a big deal. But culturally, it’s almost like how the Star Trek crew goes from one planet to another. There are a lot fewer people on the res, and most are poor. It’s a big deal to go to the movies, and there aren’t a lot of jobs. So I likely won’t move back if I want a good job.”

“So are you Cheyenne, give that that’s the name of the reservation?” Bard asked.

Diana nodded. “I am. Not everyone in Chief Dull Knife College is, but most of us are. It’s not fancy like some of the schools around here, but it’s a solid program, good enough that I qualified for a scholarship for most of my tuition here. I work as a lab assistant, which helps, too, and of course I work here all summer, and on the weekends during school sessions for as long as we run rafting trips.”

“Is it fun to go down the same river so often, or does it get boring?” Legolas asked.

“It’s never boring,” Diana’s eyes sparkled. “I meet all sorts of cool people, and I love to see how excited they get when they figure out how much fun it is to be outdoors. Not only that, the river changes every day. Different animals, different weather, different water. I love it.”

“I bet you haven’t met a Clan Ffyrnig before,” Tilda teased.

“I haven’t. I haven’t met any amazing ballet dancers or metal sculptors before, either,” Diana winked at Bard and Thran.

“We are revealed,” Thran gave Bard an exaggerated sigh. “And here I thought we were incognito.”

“You are kinda distinctive, Thran,” Diana shrugged. “Knew you right off. Once I knew that, I knew who you are, too – Bard Bowman, the sculptor. I loved that angel you did.”

“Thanks. I had good inspiration,” Bard said, cocking his head at Thran. “Even if I can’t persuade him to show his wings in public.”

Thran snorted, but he was pleased enough to give Bard a fond look. “My husband is a whimsical man, as well as a wonderful sculptor.”

“Can we go in the water again?” Bain dashed up to ask, cramming the last of his cookie into his mouth.

“Ask the captain if you have time before we shove off again,” Bard nodded to Diana.

“Yeah, we generally take an hour for lunch, just to let everything settle. Please stay in the marked area just downstream, so you’re out of the way of the rafts coming in. We’ll shove off in about twenty minutes.”

“Aye-aye, Captain!” Tilda threw a salute Diana’s way before she scampered off after the other children.

Diana chuckled. “She’s adorable. Such a doll!”

“Thanks again,” Bard smiled fondly as Tilda hurled herself into the water with a yell. “I’ve always called her my little doll, and Thran and Legs call her Kukla.”

“That is Russian for doll,” Thran supplied.

“Oh, so I’m not off in my guess, then!” Diana laughed.

“Not at all,” Bard shook his head. “She’s growing up fast. She’ll be as sassy as her sister before long. If you want to know how sassy that is, we call Sigrid the family lioness.”

“I can see that,” Diana kept laughing. “What about your boys – though they’re just about young men at this point. Do you have nicknames for them, too?”

“Bottomless pits,” both Bard and Thran chorused, joining Diana for a good chortle.

“They must play sports,” Diana guessed.

“They all do,” Thran agreed. “Sigrid is a runner. Legolas is an archer and fencer. Bain plays soccer. Tilda has not chosen a favorite sport yet, but she likes many of them. She is very fond of the Double Dutch jump ropes.”

“Wow. The market must love to see you walk in the door.”

“Hmm, I wondered why the place rolled out a red carpet for me last week,” Bard teased. “Is there anything you want us to help with for cleanup, Diana, or getting the raft set for the rest of the trip?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m good. I’ll check with Colin and Daniel to see if anything’s come up since we left, and do my raft check. Enjoy a dip if you’d like, and there are restrooms at the back of the green if you need them before we go on. I’ll check back with you a few minutes before we leave.”

“Thanks, Diana; thank you, Diana,” Bard and Thran chorused, as Diana headed over to converse with her colleagues. They took advantage off the lull to visit the restrooms as Diana had suggested, then joined the children for a brief dip. In a few minutes, Diana waved to them, and the family got themselves ready for the rest of the trip. Before long, they were back aboard their sturdy craft, and leaving the other lunching rafters behind.

“How soon before the rapids?” Tilda asked, bouncing excitedly on the side of the raft.

“About two more turns down the river,” Diana replied, grinning. “This is the longest one of the trip, so I hope you’re ready.”

“Really? How big?” Legolas turned around to look at Diana. “Twice as long as the last one? Three times?”

“It’s faster, so it doesn’t last as long. It’s one big curve instead of two, and it’s steeper. We have to stay as close to the left side as possible, or we’ll get swept into the big eddy at the bottom on the right. It’ll be the same routine as before – left means the left side of the raft paddles hard, right means the right side paddles hard, and straight means everyone paddles hard.”

“Oh, I can’t wait!” Bain giggled. “Come on, let’s go!”

“Don’t wear yourself out too soon, Bain,” Diana called. “Or you’ll be too tired for the last rapids, which is faster than the one we’re about to get to, and trickier.”

“Yeah, don’t be in a hurry for everything to be over so fast, Bain!” Sigrid scolded. “This is cool, so just enjoy it.”

“You are right, lioness,” Thran agreed, giving Bard a wink. “Let us enjoy the quiet while we can, before we hurtle between the rocks.”

“And then fall out!” Bard and the children chanted back to Thran. They were so funny that Thran added his snickers to theirs.

“I have not fallen out yet, much to your disappointment. Perhaps you will be the ones to fall out, not me.”

A lot of good-natured snarking went back and forth until everyone dissolved into laughter. By the time they’d calmed, Diana called them back to attention as the next rapids drew near.

“Okay, crew – remember, big curve to the left, and we want to stay to the left. It gets pretty fast, so look sharp! Ready?”

“Ready!”

No one had time to do more than clutch a paddle before the curve swung into view.

“Oh, gods, look at it!” Bain crowed. “This is going to be sooooooo good!”

Bard snuck a look at Thran, who eyed the upcoming curve, shook his head, and muttered, “ _Suka blyad_.”

“Yeah! Let’s do it! Come on!” the children shouted, as the raft picked up speed.

With Diana shouting directions beside him, Bard paddled hard as the raft plunged into the ravine. Up front, the boys whooped as they enthusiastically followed Diana’s directions. When the raft lurched suddenly to the right, however, Tilda overbalanced and would have fallen in if Bard hadn’t grabbed the back of her life jacket.

“Sig! Grab Til!” he shouted. The older girl grabbed Tilda’s arm to help Bard pull her back into the raft. Still, with three paddlers unable to paddle, the raft swerved right, heading right for the eddy that Diana had wanted them to avoid.

“Thran! Bain! Hard right! HARD!” Diana yelled, leaning heavily on the rudder paddle. As Thran and Bain did their best, Bard held onto Tilda until Sigrid could add her paddle to the others. Tilda got herself back into position, and with Diana’s quick commands, they shot past the eddy and on downstream. The river continued to flow swiftly for some yards past the rapids, but no one was in danger of falling out of the raft.

“Wow, Til, you almost went in!” Sigrid exclaimed, wiping water out of her face.

“What? You nearly fell in, Kukla?” Legolas gave Tilda a startled frown.

“I nearly did,” Tilda nodded, but she looked excited rather than scared. “But Da held onto me, and Sigrid pulled me back in. Thank you!”

“Welcome,” Bard and his daughter said.

“Were you scared, Til?” Bain asked.

Tilda shook her head. “It happened so fast, I didn’t have time to be scared. And Da and Sigrid held onto me, so that wasn’t scary, either.”

“Good job all around,” Diana complimented them. “So far, we’re batting a thousand – no one’s gone in the drink!”

“I could use a drink of water,” Bard quipped. “All this water around makes me thirsty!”

Everyone had a good swig of water, then stowed their bottles back in the gear bag as they continued on their leisurely way downstream.

What was this? Thran was smiling, and it had a definite air of glee about it.

“That was fun,” his husband admitted, when Bard prodded him with his foot. “Such excitement when we shot over the first drop. For a moment, there was no gravity, and I felt as if we flew over the water. Did you?”

“I did,” Legolas looked back at his father. “That was the best part.”

“Yeah, it was like flying,” Bain agreed. “Totally like flying, only wet.”

“I think I’ve made a couple of converts,” Diana pumped her fist. “That’s the part I like, too, that second when you feel free.”

“Just before you almost fall into the water?” Tilda teased, amid much laughter. “That counts as flying, too, because I was in the air until Da and Sigrid caught me.”

“Yep, that counts,” Diana agreed.

“You’ll go flying for sure on the next one, Til!” Bain exclaimed.

“I sort of hope so,” Tilda admitted, as their raft continued down the river.

The excitement of the rapids provoked a lot of conversation over the next hour, but so did the scenery. Sigrid glimpsed a female fox drinking by the river, though she flitted back into the woods as soon as the raft got too close. Hundreds of dragonflies swarmed over the water in the calmer sections, their iridescent blue and green bodies sparkling in the bright sun. Legolas and Bain pointed out innumerable fish, and a tired butterfly perched for a few seconds on Thran’s hat brim, oblivious to the children’s oohs and aahs. Diana regaled them with stories about the animals she’d seen up and down the river. She’d even done a couple of cold-weather trips with other guides, and described how different the river looked when the trees were bare. One trip had surprised her with an unexpected snowfall, a rare happening that was quiet and beautiful despite the cold.

“You love it here a lot,” Legolas observed, turning back to look at Diana.

“I really do,” she agreed. “Some people think New York’s not as expansive outdoors as Montana or other parts of the West are, and it’s true that you have to make more of an effort to find those expansive places here. But it’s worth the effort. It might not seem as dramatic until you look closely, but it’s still amazing, still beautiful, still full of cool plants and animals. I hope that when I graduate from school, I can find a position here, because New York’s become a second home. I’d hate to leave.”

Legolas hummed in acknowledgement, and the rest the children looked around themselves with more awareness of the special environment they had the chance to enjoy during their trip. Bard, too, appreciated Diana pointing out the pleasures around them. He’d found the leisurely trip relaxing and fun.

 

* * *

 

Before long, the family drew near the third and final rapids on their trip. As Diana explained, this one was not as curved as either of the first two rapids, but was mostly a straight shot. At some point in the distant past, this stretch was thought to have been a small waterfall, but through erosion and likely an earthquake or two, the falls had disintegrated into a series of steps. They weren’t even steps, however, and they were steep enough to have been dubbed The Ladder. The goal was to keep as centered down the middle as possible, despite the pull of various eddies, and one big flat rock on the left that could beach unwary rafts if they weren’t alert. Getting unstuck from that rock wasn’t easy, so that was a good place to avoid.

“Will it feel like we’re flying down the river this time?” Tilda asked

“Absolutely,” Diana assured her. “No curves to lessen the speed, if we do it right. Maybe it’ll feel like a lot of Thran’s ballet jumps, all in a row.”

Than perked up. Despite his initial reluctance, he’d enjoyed the trip so far. It was fun to watch the children’s delight, and to savor the sight of his strong, athletic husband was its usual pleasure. Diana’s knowledge and playful disposition had also added greatly to his enjoyment of the water, the sights around him, and the journey down the river. But the best part so far had been the exhilarating sensation of floating when they’d traversed the second rapids. Why had that been so surprising? He should have considered how much he loved his ballet leaps and jumps, all for that ever-so-brief moment when he hung suspended above the stage, free of gravity. Flying down the river was not quite so ephemeral because the floating sensation lasted longer, which made it even more amazing.

“The jetés,” Thran nodded. “Those are the closest to flying a dancer comes – such a delirious sensation they give! So I look forward to the river version of a jeté.”

“Good!” Diana replied, taking a firm hold of her rudder paddle. “All right crew, once more into the breach! Let’s rip this thing!”

Everyone cheered as Diana set the raft’s approach. Underneath Thran, the raft lurched forward, picking up speed. By the time they hit the first tumble of water, their speed must have doubled –

The raft bucked hard under Thran, sending him falling into the raft. He scrambled to regain his seat on the side of the raft, only to see Bard tumble out with a surprised oof and a flurry of arms and legs, with Tilda close behind. Hanging on to his paddle with one hand, he lunged to grab Tilda’s life jacket and pull her back into the raft with him. The whooping Legolas, Bain, and Sigrid still furiously plied their paddles, but as the raft bucked again and dipped low, both of the boys fell out.

This did not get any shout from Diana?

 _Oy, sukin syn_ , she was out of the raft, too!

Were he and Tilda the only ones left in the raft?

Thran scrambled to push himself up on the back of the raft, and grabbed the rudder paddle. No, no, Sigrid was still aboard, still paddling furiously, but when she grabbed for Tilda, the raft lurched again and bounced her out.

 _Now_ Tilda and Thran were the only ones left in the raft.

 _Suka blyad_ , he would NOT hurtle through the rocks, only to fall out before the end!

“Stay low in the center of the raft, Kukla!” Thran shouted. _Oy, chert_ , how had Diana leaned on the rudder paddle to steer such an ungainly boat? It didn’t matter – he needed only to keep the raft pointing downstream and in the middle of the flow to navigate the rest of The Ladder.

“Go, Ada, go!” Tilda yelled, crouching down in the raft, but looking ahead. “Go left! Go left!”

“Yes, yes!” Thran shouted back. “Now right!”

“You’ve got it, Ada! Right in the middle!”

He did! The raft was perfectly oriented, and they shot without pause straight down the last five rungs of The Ladder. As they reached each one, the raft raced cleanly over the rocks below, and hovered for a long, long moment, before falling back onto the water. Tilda shrieked in triumph as they made it over each one, finally throwing her arms wide when they skidded into calm water at the bottom.

“Whoo, hoo!” Tilda crowed, looking back at Thran, holding her hands out for him to smack. “That was great, Ada! We did it!”

Laughing, Thran slapped Tilda’s hands in a double high five, then wiped the water out of his eyes. “We did, Kukla! We hurtled through the rocks, and we did not fall out! No one else in Clan Ffyrnig can say that! Not even Diana can say that! Only us!”

Tilda dissolved into giggles, and she pointed behind them. “Look, Ada. They’re scattered all over.”

Turning, Thran had to agree with Tilda. The rest of their family either picked their way down either side of The Ladder, or carefully floated from rock to rock to reach the bottom. Fortunately, no one seemed hurt, and everyone wore sheepish grins.

“I think we must play the water taxi, Kukla,” Thran said, picking up one of the paddles still in the boat. “Come, let us try to paddle back to reach them.”

With Tilda’s help, Thran maneuvered the raft back towards The Ladder enough for Sigrid and the boys to swim out to them. Once they’d climbed aboard, they angled towards Bard and Diana on the other side of the river. As Bard and Diana slipped off the rocks to float out to the raft, Tilda called to her father.

“Did you see us, Da? Ada and I got through the whole thing! It was just like flying, too! It was great!”

It _had_ been just like flying, Thran agreed silently. And he’d loved it.

 

* * *

 

As Thran had hoped, Diana, Bard, and the three older children survived their tumble out of the raft no worse for the dunking. The boys, in fact, wanted to portage the raft back up to the top and slide down The Ladder a second time, but Thran, Bard, and Diana nixed that. After the howls of protest died down, the boys contented themselves with eagerly comparing notes with Sigrid and Bard about how they’d slid, bounced, or tumbled out of the raft.

“You should’ve tried it, Kukla!” Legolas told Tilda. “My life jacket made me bob right up, and I floated all the rest of the way down just like a dream. It was easy to keep myself steady, and all the rocks were smooth.”

“It sounds like fun, Legs,” Tilda admitted. “But it was fun when Ada and I flew down the last part, too. We went so fast!”

“You, did,” Bard nodded. “You were the lookout in the front, and Thran was the tiller at the back. You shot right down like a pirate ship after a prize.”

“Pirates in a hovercraft,” Sigrid grinned, moving her hand palm down to mimic how the raft had swooped down The Ladder. “I swear, Ada, you and Til never touched the water!”

“It felt like just as light as you say,” Thran admitted. “It was perfect.”

“You made a perfect run down the last five rungs of The Ladder, Thran,” Diana complimented. “You’re ROAR’s honorary guide for the day. No one could’ve have steered any better. Let’s give three cheers for Captain Thran! Hip, hip!”

“Hooray!” everyone yelled.

“Hip, hip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hip, hip!”

“Hooray!”

It was hard for Thran to smother the silly, proud grin on his face, so he didn’t try. He struck a triumphant pose with one fist firmly on his hip, and the other one pointed up to the sky. “Then here is my one and only command as captain of Clan Ffyrnig’s good ship Merle.”

“Merle?” Sigrid looked intent, then her expression cleared. “Oh! That’s French for blackbird.”

“Of course. Our raft is black, and she flies like a bird,” Thran explained.

“It’s the perfect name,” Bard nodded.

“So what’s your one and only command, Papa?” Legolas gave him a quizzical look.

Thran’s grin was full of mischief. When everyone waited expectantly for him to speak, he pointed his finger downstream and looked imperious.

“Mush.”

“Oh, Ada,” Sigrid rolled her eyes, groaning as much as everyone else was. “That’s such a lame Dad joke.”

As everyone took up paddles to continue downstream, Thran looked smugly satisfied. “Ah. My bad Dad jokes improve, then.”

In an hour, their trip was done. As they rounded the last bend and came to the ramp where they would pull their sturdy raft up onto the bank, Diana gave them a choice.

“For those of you who _did_ manage to stay in the raft for the whole trip, here’s your last chance to change that. The water’s about four feet deep from here to the ramp, so if you want to jump off the raft and swim in, go for it. For those of you who _didn’t_ manage to stay in the raft, here’s your chance for one last splash. So have at! I’ll see you on the ramp.”

Tilda climbed between the boys and balanced herself on the side of the raft. “I’m first!” she yelled, leaping into the water. The boys were right after her, drawing Sigrid’s laugh.

“Who am I to argue with an invitation to jump out of a raft?” she shrugged, setting her paddle in the raft before she, too, slid over the side.

“What about you two?” Diana encouraged Bard and Thran. “Are you sure you don’t want to bail out just once, Thran?”

“I will if you will,” Bard enticed, setting his paddle with the children’s in the raft. “How about it?”

“ _Akh, chto, chert voz'mi.”_ Thran dangled his long legs over the side of the raft, and beckoned Bard to do the same. “It would be tragedy not to indulge on such a wonderful afternoon, yes?”

“Geronimo,” Bard agreed, and slid over the side.

Once Bard and Thran were in the water, they gave Diana a push towards shore so that she could haul the raft up the ramp. Bard waded beside Thran to watch the children, then gave the end of Thran’s long white braid a light tug.

“You’re the only one of us who didn’t get his hair wet, angel. Are you sure you want to suffer such a scandalous distinction?”

Thran snickered. “I am quite wet, _lyubov moya_ , and do not need to dunk myself further as the children do. I like my hair white, not green-brown. You, however, look very nice with such streaks in your hair.”

“They’ll wash out,” Bard replied comfortably as the children enjoyed their last splash in the clear water. “Uh-oh, looks like Diana’s waving us in. Guess we’d better roust the crew out of the water.”

“A difficult task,” Thran agreed, as they beckoned to the children. Tilda groaned louder than the boys did, but eventually she waded out to stand dripping at the top of the ramp. Diana showed them where to stack in their paddles and life jackets, then pointed them to the rugged tram past the equipment tracks, where they climbed in for their trip back to their starting point. Once there, Diana presented Thran with one of ROAR’s official guide tees for his masterful navigation down The Ladder.

“I accept with great humility,” Thran gave Diana one of his ballet bows. “I thank the Academy of Rafting Professionals for this honor, as well as the most excellent Diana for her instruction, and of course I must thank beginner’s luck. I had a most wonderful time.”

“All of you were great fun,” Diana replied. “I hope you come back soon. I’d love to be your guide again.”

“We’ll ask for you,” Bard assured her. “We had a great time, one and all, even the bailout on The Ladder.”

“ _Especially_ the bailout on The Ladder!” Bain corrected, and Legolas added his agreement. “That was awesome!”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Diana grinned. “I’ll look for you next time, Clan Ffyrnig.”

After Diana waved goodbye, the family fetched towels and dry clothes from the SUV so that they’d be comfortable on the trip home. Bard and the children were content with the clothes they’d arrived in, but Thran chose to wear his bright red ROAR tee with his canvas shorts and trainers.

“Ooh, Ada!” Sigrid exclaimed, when she spotted him coming from the men’s changing room. “Look, Til! Ada’s got on his guide shirt! Very sharp!”

“Of course I have it on,” Thran asserted. “It is an honor.”

“It looks good,” Bard said, ambling up to join him and the girls. “You’ve got chops now, Captain Thran.”

“What is this, these chops?” Thran asked.

“It means you have mojo,” Tilda explained. “Good mojo.”

“Mojo?” Legolas appeared behind Bard with raised eyebrows. “Who’s got mojo?”

“Ada does,” Sigrid pointed to Thran’s tee. “See?”

“See what?” Bain asked, bringing up the rear.

“See Papa’s shirt? Tilda says it gives him mojo.”

Bain gave Thran a look up and down, then offered a thumbs up. “Yeah. He earned it.”

Legolas beamed. “He did, didn’t he?”

“Course he did,” Tilda nodded, as if that were that.

Thran’s grin was even sillier now, but he didn’t care. Earning the approval of four children was an even better prize than a tee shirt.

 

* * *

 

The SUV was quiet as Bard drove the family home. None of the children was asleep, but the day’s excitement had taken the greater part of their energy, leaving enough only for quiet conversation. Beside Bard, Thran was quiet as well, but a small smile never left his lips. It remained there when the family stopped for an early supper at a local pizza restaurant, then for treats at the nearby ice cream parlor. It lingered even after the family returned home to shower, relax, and eventually settle in bed. It was still there when Bard and Thran had wished all of the children good night and retreated to their beautiful solarium.

“What’s this? More treats?” Bard murmured from his plush chair, when Thran appeared with a silver tray that bore two tiny glasses of dark red liqueur and a plate of cookies.

“The last of many today. First a delicious breakfast, then the great rafting adventure, then pizza and ice cream, and now a last sweet sip and bite before bed.”

“We’re living large,” Bard joked, taking one of the glasses when Thran held the tray out to him. “I see my shortbread seduced you again.”

“How could it not? So much butter, so much love, so much deliciousness,” Thran countered. He set the tray on the small Moroccan table between the two plush chairs, then sank into the unoccupied one. He was quick to take the other glass and one of the cookies. “It is the perfectly decadent way to end a perfectly decadent day.”

“You haven’t stopped smiling since you and Tilda flew down The Ladder,” Bard observed. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

“I did, very much,” Thran sighed, nibbling his cookie. “The river was beautiful, and the children were so much fun to watch. Of course, I had the privilege to ogle my hunky welder husband throughout, too. Most provocative.”

Bard snorted, but his cheeks felt warm, giving away his appreciation for Thran’s compliment. He sipped the dark garnet liquid in his tiny glass, humming at the taste.

“Mmm. Is this blackberry?”

“It is,” Thran nodded, as Bard held his glass up to the light to let the light shine through the garnet liquid. “I found it at this small shop in the city. We are almost out of nalivka, so I thought this shop might have it. It did not, but this looked like a delicious alternative.”

“It’s perfect with the cookies. A beautiful color, too,” Bard decided. He held out his hand to Thran, who took it to massage with long, elegant fingers.

“One of the many advantages of civilization. There is always another shop to search for delights.”

“We saw a lot of delights on the river today, too. Maybe not another shop to visit, but another bird to watch, or a tree or admire, or a rock to hurtle past.”

Thran snickered. “I hurtled through the rocks, yes, but I did not fall in at the end.”

Bard brought Thran’s fingers to his lips to brush a kiss on them. “Of course not. You soared above the rocks just as well as you soar over a ballet stage.”

Thran sipped his cordial, then cast Bard a glance from under lowered lashes. “Oh, _lyubov moya_ , our blackberry delight has gone to your head.”

“Hardly, angel. You went to my head ten months ago, and I haven’t recovered from it yet. I hope I never do.”

Thran sighed, and his expression waxed with mock exasperation as he looked at his glass in one hand and his cookie in the other. “Oh, my saint, why do you do this?”

“Do what, angel?”

“You say these most romantic things when my hands are occupied, when I cannot make the reply that these most romantic things deserve. You are most exasperating.”

Bard took a bite of his cookie, sipped a bit of the cordial, and enjoyed the mixture of flavors. “Tell you what. Finish your cookie and your glass, and then I’ll let you persuade me to follow you upstairs where you can make any reply you want.”

Thran hummed, and his regard was on Bard rather than cookie or cordial. He bit his lower lip as he considered Bard with a long, lingering stare.

“Uh-oh. You’re trilling like a cheetah. I know where that leads.”

“To bed, I hope. Cheetahs are known for their patience when they hunt, but I do not feel very patient tonight.”

Bard ate the last bite of his cookie, and sipped the last bit of his cordial. “I think I’d better wash up the snack tray while I still can.”

Thran followed Bard into the kitchen, but he didn’t take up the dishtowel to dry the small glasses as he usually did. Instead, he stood behind Bard, pressing him against the countertop as he insinuated hands underneath Bard’s loosely tied kimono. When soft lips brushed a kiss against Bard’s neck, his flesh thrilled into gooseflesh.

“Don’t be a bastard,” Bard murmured, trying unsuccessfully to concentrate on wiping one of the small cordial glasses. “If you keep that up, I’ll drop this.”

“That would be a shame,” Thran’s voice silked, continuing to caress Bard’s ribs.

Bard held up the glass for Thran to see. “Here. Put this away for me.”

“You put it away, _lyubov moya_. The cheetah is busy with his favorite cat toy.”

“If you put it away, I’ll be able to finish this sooner, and that means you’ll get to play with your favorite cat toy sooner.”

Thran took the glass to carry into the butler’s pantry, but not without an intent look back at Bard. Bard hastily stuffed the cookie plate into the dishwasher, dried the other glass and the tray, and thrust both glass and tray at Thran when he came out of the pantry. While Thran put them away, Bard dodged out of the kitchen and up the stairs to their bedroom. He shed his kimono on the fly, tossed it by the side of the bed, and slithered under the sheet before Thran came after him. His husband drew the pocket doors to their room closed, then turned a predatory gaze on Bard as he let his kimono fall. His pale, ethereal, elongated body clad only in the palest of white hair glowed in the dim light like a statue cut from marble. But it was no statue that prowled onto the bed on hands and knees, then grabbed the top sheet and whipped it off Bard. It was neither statue nor cheetah that trilled when he’d laid Bard bare, either – it was an angel. In the shifting light, Bard could all but see pearly wings stretch overhead when Thran crawled forward to hover over his chest.

“Now, I have appreciated the wild outdoors all day, and delightful it was. But now I will show you something better, how to appreciate the wild indoors all night. What do you say to that, _mon petit jouet de chat_?”

“Mmm.” Bard lay back against the pillows stacked against the headboard of their exotic Indonesian bed, and let his eyes soften as they roved over the heavenly body before him. “The only fitting reply to that is... meow.”

When decadent lips lowered to brush a kiss on his, Bard reached out with both hands, urging his angel to descend to earth.

 _“Garu di_ , angel.”

“ _Ya lyublyu tebya_ , my saint.”

Thran was right. Falling into a river was fun, but falling into an angel was better.

 

# # #


End file.
